Virgil Exner is most often associated with the era of sweeping fins and other spacy design affectations during his tenure at Chrysler. But his most influential and enduring work was in ushering the whole neo-classic/brougham design era, and it all started with this 1963 drawing for a magazine.

In 1963, shortly after his departure from Chrysler, Esquire magazine contacted Virgil and his son Virgil Jr. and asked them where car design was headed, especially in the light of the growing interest in classic cars at the time. Exner always had one foot firmly in classic design, as his love (and repeated use) of the classical grille and toilet-seat fake spare tire trunk lids so obviously showed.

The Exners made four drawings, of a Mercer, Stutz, Duesenberg and Packard Revival. And although the Mercer roadster did get built, thanks to some support from the Copper Marketing Association, it more reflected Exner’s previous XNR roadster and the fuselage styling that first appeared on the 1960 Valiant than true classic lines.

These cars, along with some additional Exner revival drawings, were turned into a popular series of scale plastic models by Renwal. Perhaps it was them that really primed a generation with “Broughamitis”.

In 1964, the Exners happened to acquire a remaining un-bodied Bigatti Type 57C chassis (for $2500), and designed a revival body for it, which was turned into reality by Ghia. The Exners showed it at car shows in 1965, hoping to attract financing for a production run, but without success.

Inspired by Exner’s revivals and wanting to cash in on the family name while it still had caché, the Duesenbergs approached Exner about a production revival carrying that storied name. This became a serious undertaking, and the Exner’s invested considerable time and effort in the 1966 Duesenberg Model D concept, a large sedan based on Imperial underpinnings.

Its design owed much more to the Stutz drawing from 1963 than the Duesenberg. It’s a long sad story, but at the last minute, one of the investors backed out, and the whole project to sell them for $20k ($135k adjusted) collapsed. Exner was crushed, and never recouped his considerable investment of time.

The Duesenberg was originally designed to have 16 or 17 inch wheels, but there were no modern tires being made in those sizes then. The solution was that Firestone took a very large 15″ tire, and added a second whitewall right at the bead, which is intended to make the wheel look larger than it really is. That problem would be easily fixed today; put some 22s on that baby!

Henry Ford saw the Duesenberg Model D at the Exner Studios in 1966, and was obviously very smitten.

The 1969 Lincoln Continental Mark III arrived three years later in 1969, a highly flattering imitation of the Duesenberg indeed. And the rest is (well-known) brougham history.

Although the Duesenberg never took off, it did inspire a similar project, the Stutz Blackhawk, also designed by the Exners, and which went into limited production, and lingered around in various further permutation for way too long. The original 1971 version seen here was the beneficiary of Pontiac’s new 1969 Grand Prix, which had also adopted the neo-classic proportions, and donated (sold, actually) its chassis to the Stutz cause. The Stutz initiated a whole genre itself, the beyond-the-brougham era of garish Superflys and Bugazzis. Thank you Virgil!

I look at these Exner drawings and see all kinds of things that eventually made it to production. From the the Stutz revival, the ovoid wheel wells – 69 Chevrolet, and the sweeping sail panels – 1968 Corvette Stingray.
The front of the Blackhawk ended up on the 73 Monte Carlo and on the Cordoba.
And of course, the Mark III is all over the Duesenberg.

Virgil Exner had a way of anticipating trends. Unfortunately, he was often too far out ahead of them. His early 60s Mopar work had more in common with GM designs of 10 years later than with current styles. Exner’s downfall was perhaps his tendency towards the bold and brash. Very much like Wayne Kady of a generation later.

Oddly (or perhaps not) his most restrained designs(the 1957 Chrysler Forward Look) was his most successful.

See, the Mark III evolved on sort of a parallel track. It was conceived by Iacocca (in a late-night brainstorm, by all accounts) — as a Thunderbird with a Rolls-Royce grille — about a year before Henry Ford II would have seen the Exner Duesenberg. It received production approval in March 1966 and went on sale in April 1968. Even if Henry II saw the Exner car before that, I think it’s unlikely to have had any direct stylistic influence, just based on timing. However, Henry definitely liked that sort of thing, and I’m sure the neo-Duesenberg would have been right up his alley.

On the other hand, it’s entirely possible that Iacocca saw Exner’s Esquire drawings and had them in the back of his head, so maybe in that respect.

I would imagine that many of the details of the Mark III design were also done by anonymous designers who had also seen Exner’s drawings and were influenced by them. I would suspect that automotive stylists are much like jazz musicians. When someone influential comes along, everyone’s work is affected to some degree. One stylist’s ideas will create an idea in another stylist, and on it goes. A lot of riffing can go on within a set of parameters or within a stylistic theme. And once you have seen (or heard) a stylistic expression, you can’t un-see or un-hear it.

Sleuthing exactly what influenced what is very difficult indeed. Design, whether it’s interior, architecture, clothing or cars is constantly being defined by what other folks are doing.

Your guess that Iacocca saw the earlier Exner drawings is a good one. These were influential, and retro-classicalism was in the air; Brooks Steven’s Excalibur came out in 1963 too. It was the new thing.

But undoubtedly some of the stylistic details of the Mark III have to be credited to Exner’s drawings and/or the Duesenberg.

Although interestingly, Dave Ash said that had it not been for Iacocca pushing for the neo-classic look, Ford Styling would have rejected it out of hand. He said if he (Ash) had presented the same idea to Gene Bordinat without Iacocca, Bordinat would not have been pleased. So, it was the trend, but Iacocca was sort of riding the wave.

Scott KC

Posted May 25, 2012 at 10:12 AM

I like how you place these overtly classic inspired cars as a progression of Exner’s Chrysler show cars and production autos as well.

I’ve preached this before but I think it bears repeating- The Continental Mark II(even the FWD Eldorado is a 60’s bladed Mark II, only in the power dome hood and the way in which the blades recall fins is it a “Cadillac”) is an important step in the progression towards classic era inspired retro-mobiles and “personal luxury cars”- the Mark III is in many ways an update of the Mark II as much as it is inspired by Classic era themes.

Of course, neo-classicism didn’t just appear one day on the pages of Esquire. It had never completely gone away; the lingering influence of the most powerful automotive design era was impossible to ignore, and its influence could always be seen. But the 1963 Esquire drawings were a significant turning point, and specific design details of those drawings did directly influence a whole generation of cars. In 1956, it would have been too soon to put a classical grille on the Mk II; modernism was still too dominant. But by 1963, the post-modern era was emerging.

I’ve only seen one of these cars in person. Back around 2000, I was getting gas at an old time station (which has been torn down and a new bank built at its location). Sitting there was a Stutz Blackhawk similar to the black 71, however, this car was white, with gold trim all over the place, WWW tires, and side pipes. The attendant said its owner had it up for sale, around $10,000.

Anyhow, I never saw the car after that. Cadillacs with carriage roofs are downright conservative in comparison.

In 1975 I was driving Sunset Blvd. just as it comes into Pacific Palisades. I stopped at a light next to a Stutz Blackhawk, looked over at the driver next to me, and it was Dean Martin.

Dean looked over at me and smiled. Raised his hand in greeting just as the light changed. Left me in the dust, with a smile on my face as I finally grasped the meaning of the Stutz’s personalized license plate:

Yes, back in the ’70s, the California DMV actually issued Dean Martin vanity plates reading “DRUNKY.” Nowadays, they’d not only refuse such a request, they’d breathalyze you on the spot and confiscate your keys.

And whatever happened to Dino’s Drunkymobile, you ask? Well, what do you expect would happen?

I think the pix at the top of the post is actually quite nice, not like the weird things that eventually became Stutzes. I wonder if the actual production Stutzes had been longer, if they would have looked better?

Exner’s Esquire sketch, although far from restrained, is at least attractive and stylish. Excessive, yes, but not emetic. Not the work of a crazy person.

The designers/builders of the real 1970s/80s Neo Stutzes, on the other hand, just didn’t know when to stop. The design philosophy seems to have been, “If two chrome gewgaws are good, then 20 will be 10 times better!” They’re a moron’s idea of what a luxury car should look like. Or maybe a pimp’s. Klass with a kapital K. Too much of a good thing. A pompous, pretentious showoff of a car.

I can tolerate a fair amount of eccentricity and even frivolity in automotive design, but the Blackhawks (and the later, even gaudier Bearcats), on top of being overdressed, are just too WEIRD for me. I like lines that flow, not pointlessly zig-zag. I like design elements that seamlessly meld into a unified whole, not fight one another for your eye’s attention. Then there’s all the obvious fakery: the fake spare tire hump; the fake sidepipes; and the 1930s-style two-piece windshields that were on the early years (before, I’m assuming, buyers told the company how much they hated the center pillar and it was replaced with a conventional curved one-piece). They are silliness made steel. Vanity writ large. (And also priced high: these were the most expensive American cars at the time, costing considerably more than an Eldorado.)

“The Stutz Blackhawk — The car for people with more money than taste!”

That Duesie is a real missed opportunity. Classier than the Stutzes. The Saoudis and Presleys would have loved those!

Just one thing: that Exner / Ghia Bugatti was a Type 101C, the only post-war Bugatti — about 7 built in 1951-53 — that particular one being the last such chassis left over at the Bugatti factory in Molsheim. Ghia shortened it by 18in to make this a two-seater, but otherwise it was still a 3.3 litre DOHC straight-8 and solid beam front axle as in the pre-war Type 57. Main differences were the hydraulic brakes, Cotal-Maag gearbox and lowered chassis. Hopelessly outdated in the ’50s, positively antique ten years later.

There was no Bugatti factory left to make these, as the assets were sold by the Bugatti family to Hispano-Suiza/Messier (subsequently known as SNECMA aerospace) in 1963 or thereabouts, so I doubt Exner or Ghia ever thought to make even a limited production run.

Style-wise, I don’t like what Virgil did there (the motoring press weren’t impressed either at the time), putting a granny in a miniskirt, blonde wig and platform shoes like that. The “production” Bugatti 101 of 1951-52 [pic below] was not much prettier and cost an eye-watering 3m Francs (1m Francs more than a Talbot or Delahaye!) hence why Bugatti only made a handful Type 101 chassis before calling it quits. Two other Type 101s were bodied by outside firms (Guillore and Antem), and both of these are better looking than this Exnerosity.

I just commented on these cars in another thread, without realizing you’d given them the honor already, Paul. Always felt they were a mixed bag – the Mercer, Esquire Stutz, both Duesenbergs and the later Renwal Jordan were quite nice; the Renwal Pierce Arrow had its moments, but the Bugatti feels bloated and the Packard was a blob, and as noted above, the production Bearcat was both extreme and an unfortunate precedent.

Interesting that of the original Esquire designs, the least successful, in my opinion, was the Packard, the classic brand that lasted the longest. I wonder if the recency of true Packard designs – including Dick Teague’s 1955 Request and ’57 Predictor clouded the Exner’s design process?

Here’s a shot of the Renwal model Packard. The castings weren’t as crisp as contemporary AMT, Revell, Monogram or Jo-Han models, and the subtle two-tone green color scheme doesn’t help, but overall, not a happy design. You can’t see it here, but the vinyl landau roof covering continues onto the front half of the rear deck, a very odd detail.

Has anyone seen the actual Esquire issue that featured these drawings? I ask, because I’ve only seen profile drawings, and you almost get the feeling that when Renwal decided to make 3D models, the actual front and rear end design details had to be quickly fleshed out. But maybe not.

I built this model maybe in `68. Did not do justice to the picture that showed a longer, lower sleeker car with crisp lines. When compared to the others however, it seemed like it could have actually have been produced in real life. It did have some features that would have been seen on `66 and later Rivieras, Toronados, Eldorados, MK llls, and Monte Carlos. Would have been a nifty personal luxury coupe that would have done justice to the Packard name, and that 12 cylinder had the power to back it up.
The Renwal model is valuable to model car collectors. They were available as motorized slotcars or display models.I had the display model version that I paid $1.00 for back in the day. It was molded in two tones of green, black and had clear red and plated parts plus the 12 cylinder motor, but even though it was nicely produced, it looked like a blurb of wax when it was built.As a lifetime scale model car builder, I wish I still had it.